Batteries & Baking
by iphianeira
Summary: Five drabbles for Arthur Weasley and Molly Prewett, telling five parts of their story in reverse order.
1. them

_For the Five Drabbles Competition, with the prompts Arthur/Molly and kettle; for the Famous Witches and Wizards Challenge, with the prompt derelict._

* * *

The teakettle whistled, and Molly burst into tears.

"I'll get the tea, Molly, dear," Arthur called from another room, and Molly nodded gratefully, forgetting that he couldn't see her. The day had been long, and she felt ever so exhausted, she was so, so sad, and more than anything, she was angry.

Antonin Dolohov, Sereneus Parkinson, and Egeria Rosier: those were the three that had done it. She would remember their names as long as she would live, because they had done the unforgivable.

Because of them, her brothers lay motionless in twin graves.

Molly sat, sobbing, in the derelict little living room she'd grown so much to hate. It had at first seemed cozy, peaceful, halcyon, and yet by now she had spent her time taking care of her children, not attending to the room, and it was dirty and messy and she _hated_ it and she _hated_ what she had to go through and why did Merlin choose Molly to go through this pain? Why did Fabian and Gideon have to _die_ for this war to be over?!

Arthur rushed in before she could call him, a cup of tea in one hand, the other clamping down over the cup. "Molly," he said softly, handing the teacup to her, and she took it, fingers shaking, as he sat down next to her on their faded red loveseat..

"Molly," Arthur said again, cupping her cheek with his still-warm hand. Her tears only fell faster. "Mollywobbles, I promise you, things _will_ get better."

"But," Molly choked, "but Gid and Fay won't get to see it."

Arthur sighed, watching her chest rise and fall with every short, shallow breath. "No, they won't. But you know who will? Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Fred and George and Ron and our daughter. And we'll experience it for them. Okay? So when we get to Heaven, we'll walk over and see your brothers, and they'll say, 'I'm so proud of you.' Okay?"

"No," Molly admitted. "It's not okay, really. I'm so sorry – "

"I understand, Molly. But I promise: everything will be okay. It's not now, you're right. But there _will_ be a day that we don't have to worry. Okay? Because I love you, Molly, and you love me, right, so we'll make it through this."

Molly tried to smile. "Okay."


	2. reunions

_For the Five Drabbles Competition, with the prompts Arthur/Molly and reunion._

* * *

The house was far too quiet.

The Weasley children had all fallen asleep, beginning with the months-old Ron and finally the eldest, Bill. The girl that Molly would give birth to in August still kicked at her mother's stomach, and it was almost a comfort, to feel something after feeling so little.

But Arthur had not yet come home, and the hands on the little clock he had made so many years ago all pointed to "MORTAL PERIL," and Molly didn't quite know if her family would make it through the war. She worried for her children, who wouldn't defend themselves, and she worried for her brothers, who would go down in flames if they were given no other choice, and she worried for Arthur, who went out to see the Order every other evening and could be killed any one of those nights.

To put things very simply, Molly worried far too often.

And every other evening, Arthur came home, reuiniting both tensely and tenderly with his wife of several worsening years. She needed to know that he had remained safe, and so she loved these little reunions, but they continued on and on for months upon months upon months, and Molly hadn't a clue whether she could make it through these horrible years safely.

But Arthur would. She would make sure of it.


	3. on the mission

_For the Five Drabbles Competition, with the prompts Arthur/Molly and "Crawling" by Linkin Park._

* * *

"Arthur, Arthur, Merlin, are you okay? _Merlin_ , _Arthur_ , tell me you're okay, please let me know you're okay – "

Such a response should normally have been reserved for times during which Arthur's bloodied body lay motionless on the ground, and Molly had hoped she would never have to plead in such a way. But somehow, they had come to this, and she simply didn't know what was happening to Arthur and she had no idea what she could do (what could _she_ do?) and what was going on?! Why was this happening to Arthur –

"I don't know!" came Arthur's voice, distant and pained, and Molly calmed down slightly to know that he still lived, that he still possessed the ability to speak.

And yet she could not shake the idea that some sort of dark magic had taken root in her husband. He was motionless except for his hands, which he wrung back and forth as if trying to expel some terrible demon; he breathed quickly and heavily so that Molly nearly worried he would use up all the oxygen.

Why did this have to happen on an Order mission?! And more urgently, what was going on?!

"Arthur," Molly said quietly, trying to keep her voice from quivering as she placed her hands on her husband's shoulders. "Arthur, please tell me what is going on."

The redheaded man took in a gasp of air before a stream of words tumbled almost incoherently from his mouth: "I don't know, I don't know – Molly – I don't – I'm sorry – I just – everything is coming in at once and I'm – I don't know – Molly – it's just me thinking about everything and everyone and why do we have to go through all this – I don't know – " and he gasped for air again. His breathing began to slow, but after only a moment of relaxed breathing, tears began to flow down his reddened cheeks, prompting another wave of quick, shallow breaths.

"Arthur, listen to me," Molly said. "We're going to get you through this, okay?"

(And they did, because he was strong enough.

An anxiety attack, said the wizened old man who had been on the mission alongside them.

It was not the last that Arthur had.)


	4. blue & bronze & stars

_For the Five Drabbles Competition, with the prompts Arthur/Molly and bronze; for the School of Prompts Challenge, with the prompt movie._

* * *

Blue and bronze decorated the Great Hall to celebrate Ravenclaw's win of the house cup; Gryffindor had come close, but they couldn't win every year, Molly supposed. Plus, as every Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw had whispered to their friends all evening, _Slytherin came in last_.

Molly had spent her last evening as a sixth year trying to obtain the addresses of the fellow classmates that she'd befriended this semester, hoping to converse with them all – and now, she only had one left.

This contact was the one she felt most nervous to ask for; her interactions with him this year had been… interesting, to say the least. She hoped it stemmed from his own anxiousness to talk to _her_ ; he just didn't _say_ anything around her.

Nevertheless, she'd do it.

"Arthur!" she called to the tall boy, capturing his attention. "Can I talk to you?"

"Er, yeah," he said, giving her a small smile. The pair of them walked toegether down the aisle separating the two house tables, stopping when they reached the end of the Great Hall.

"So, er," Molly began, finding herself rather timid, "could I maybe – have your address? So we can owl over the summer?"

Arthur grinned. "Yeah, sure."

"Oh, fantastic." She handed him a sheet of parchment on which he wrote his information, and he gave her an awkward wave.

She looked at the parchment as if she would immediately memorize the address as soon as she looked at it.

 _Arthur Weasley  
21 Meyrick Road  
Stafford, Staffordshire  
Go to a movie with me?_

"Arthur!" she repeated.

"Yeah?" he said, grinning slightly.

"What the hell's a _movie_?"

His eyes lit up. "It's a Muggle thing! You know we have our pictures, and they move, right? But Muggles' pictures – they _don't_ move! So basically, they made these things they "movies" and they're like our pictures, except they make _sound_ , and they're like, two _hours_ , and some of them are romantic and – "

Molly quirked her eyebrow. "Would this be a _date_?"

Arthur shrugged, clearly feigning nonchalance. "If you want."

"I'd love that," Molly said, beaming.

"Fantastic," Arthur replied, and suddenly she felt his lips on hers, and it couldn't have been more perfect, really, under the blue and the bronze and the stars shining through the ceiling, just her and Arthur and _this_ was why they'd been awkward all year but it was so, _so_ worth it.


	5. chess

_For the Five Drabbles Competition, with the prompts Arthur/Molly and chessboard._

* * *

There was nothing that Molly loved more than winter holidays at Hogwarts. She loved the snow that fell all morning onto the school's grounds; she loved the feasts prepared for Christmas Eve and Christmas and New Year's Day; she loved residing at Hogwarts without the looming threat of schoolwork. And really, she loved the people. Somehow, in her two and a half years at Hogwarts, her fellow Gryffindor third years had become family.

Molly reflected upon this with a smile on her face, really feeling quite mature. Her friends had all gone to the Great Hall for breakfast, and only a few people lingered in the Gryffindor Common Room in those morning hours. None that she could see were third years, so Molly remained pensive and quiet, refraining from starting up any conversation.

And then – "Hey, Molly!"

Who would know her? If she was to be honest, she had not made many Gryffindor friends outside of her own year; she had developed several friendships with a few students in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, but none in any other years.

She turned to locate the voice and found its source sitting, huddled, in a miniscule alcove near the stairs to the boys' dormitories, looking very cramped. "Arthur?"

The boy nodded, and she stood up and approached him. "What are you doing?" she asked, looking down at the table at which he sat. Upon it was a very simple black-and-white chessboard with mundanely-sculpted pieces; they didn't even have mouths with which to speak. How would they express their contentment with or disdain for the person playing with them?

"Chess!" Arthur told her, as if this was not obvious. He seemed to have no problem that his tall, lanky frame required perhaps more room than the little alcove provided.

"Er, yeah, but how? Did you just… move one? By yourself? With your hands?"

Arthur leaned in. "It's _Muggle_ chess."

"That exists?" Molly asked, surprised. She had thought of chess as a wizarding game.

"Yeah!"

"Huh. Interesting."

"Well, er," Arthur stuttered. "I was just… er… Ned's just gone to breakfast with Mary, right? So I don't have anyone to play with. And I was wondering – did you, er, want to play?"

Molly giggled. "Yeah, I'd love to."

There was nothing that Molly loved more than winter holidays at Hogwarts.


End file.
